Moving Staircases
by Mrs. Handsome
Summary: "Have I touched a nerve, Draco?" she asked, lowering her wand an inch. Slowly, after regaining his composure, Draco leaned forward, and whispered dangerously, "Not a bit." What happens when Draco finds Hermione after the Yule Ball? Usual banter, of course, but this time he went a bit too far. One-shot. Dramione.


Hermione Granger sat on the leaden steps, far, far beyond the sight of the Great Hall. She'd told Viktor to wait for her near the pumpkin juice dish, and that she needed to use the lavatory. A small lie, necessary only for the sake of her dignity.

'Ronald has such nerve!' she thought to herself, wiping away a lone tear that streamed steadily down her cheek.

For once, Hermione ceased her studies, opted instead to enjoy herself, even put effort into her looks.

For once, she could feel as though she were more than just the "bookworm prude".

But of course, that only lasted as long as Ron would allow...

'Why must he ruin everything? Granted, Krum may not have been the most endearing date, but at least he wasn't Ronald Bilius Weasley, who would have ogled at me every two moments, _shocked_ at his latest discovery that I'm the opposite sex!'

Another tear rolled down her cheek.

'Why bother', she told herself. 'No one thinks I'm good enough anyways.'

She let it drift down to her chin this time, traveling down the nape of her neck, and into the folds of her dress.

Her dress. She'd actually felt special picking it out with Ginny. Special when Krum asked her to the ball, when he told her that he'd been waiting for her at the library for weeks, to scrape up the courage to ask her...

But it was never enough.

She shook the thought out of her head, and rose to her feet.

'I mustn't keep him waiting, then.'

Suddenly, the staircase shifted from beneath her feet, and abruptly locked with the next set of stairs, forcing her forward.

"Godric!" she shouted. "Curse this moving staircase!

A cold, sharp voice rang out over her. "What're you doing here, Granger?"

Hermione gathered her skirts and stood. "Just collecting my thoughts, Malfoy. Now if you'll excuse me, I must-"

Draco stared curiously at her. "Collecting your thoughts? Is that why your eyes are so red? Or did Krum finally take account of your blood status?"

Hermione could only stare at him. Her eyes flashed with anger for just a moment, but then she turned away from him to leave.

Draco watched her, astounded. 'Why hasn't the Mudblood fought back?'

He sauntered over to her, his signature smirk plastered on his face. "Come on, Granger. I was only pulling your leg...I know you were looking for me. But, I must tell you, I'm not interested in Mudbloods. I thought you got the message when poor little Weasel Bee, had a case of the slugs last year."

Hermione stopped in her tracks.

Draco smirked wider. "Sorry, Princess, did I touch a nerve?"

Hermione turned around, her tear-stained face unreadable.

His smirk faltered. 'She'd better not start crying again.' He thought to himself.

Instead, she lunged herself at him, wand at his throat. "At least I'm not a Death-Eater's spawn!"

Draco froze. Half angered by her comment about his father, and yet half surprised by his own willingness to allow a Mudblood to come near him.

She stood defiantly in front of him, her wand still grazing his collarbone, and her eyes iridescent with fury. "Have I touched a nerve, _Draco_?" she asked, lowering her wand an inch.

Slowly, after regaining his composure, Draco leaned forward, and whispered dangerously, "Not a bit."

Hermione's breathing became ragged as she took several steps back.

Draco ran his hands through his hair, and looked at her thoughtfully. "Scared, Granger?"

She bit her lip. "No."

He contemplated her for a moment, and then she suddenly felt cold fingers at her arm, bringing her closer.

"Weasley's a fool." He said.

Hermione's eyes widened at his words, and she quickly took another step back and glared at him. "Don't touch me, Malfoy!"

Draco's smirk seemed to be permanently etched on his face. He circled her slowly, his grey eyes darkening with malice. He brought his lips to softly trace her ear, and hissed, "Wouldn't dream of it."

She flinched in spite of herself, stumbling backwards to the wall. He had her cornered.

"Ay, miss, mind if you don't bump into me!" the portrait beside her shouted, walking away from his frame with a huff.

Draco raised his eyebrow amusedly.

"What would you possibly want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, rather impatient, but still coming off as flustered.

"Just...curious..." he said.

It was her turn to raise her eyebrow at him.

"Granger, you haven't left yet either. I'd have expected you to run off by now, to Scarhead and his mates." He let out a low chuckle.

Hermione grimaced. "Don't call him that! And in fact, you're right, Malfoy, I should be going..."

Draco grabbed her arm once again.

"What is it, now?" she asked, exasperatedly.

He ignored her this time, instead lingering over her quietly, his breath gracing her features. Finally, he pressed his lips to hers, rather roughly. Hermione responded, startled; clutching his black dress robes to her with one hand, and grasping his white blond hair with the other. 'Arrogant prat' she thought to herself. Draco pulled her closer by the waist, as she leaned into him, deepening the kiss. Abruptly, Hermione pulled away, wiping the taste of him from her lips. "What was that?!"

Draco, taken aback could only turn away. "Just...punishing you..."

And with one more smirk, he disappeared around the corridor.

"Bloody arse!" she shouted after him, putting a finger to her lips again. '_This had better not happen again'_ she thought; deciding to not follow him. Instead she returned to the Gryffindor common room, the Yule Ball having completely slipped from her mind.


End file.
